


A Story of Three Tattoos

by Bk_Betty



Series: The Adventures of Jax and Issa [4]
Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Sons of Anarchy, F/M, Godfather/Goddaugther Relationship, Happy Lowman Being Sweet and Terrifying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26235328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bk_Betty/pseuds/Bk_Betty
Summary: A look at Happy Lowman’s relationship with his goddaughter through her first three tattoos.
Relationships: Happy Lowman & Original Female Character, Jax Teller/Original Character(s), Jax Teller/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Adventures of Jax and Issa [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884274
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	A Story of Three Tattoos

**Author's Note:**

> This one shot is a little different from the others in this series. I’m trying out telling the story through Happy Lowman’s point of view. Hopefully I captured him at least remotely well. 
> 
> Also, I’m playing a little fast and loose with one particular detail of this story. I mention a song, Amora a La Mexicana by Thalia, which was originally released in 1997. The part of the story it’s in though takes place in 1995. But I decided to use it anyways because a) it’s one of my favorite songs and b) it’s both a love song and a love letter to Mexican culture. You’ll understand why that second point is important as you read along. So let’s all pretend it was released in 1995 and not discuss it ever again. Kthxbi!

* * *

Happy Lowman is a man of many contradictions - he is built for war but finds peace in his art. He has killed without mercy or conscience but will never bring harm to an animal. He studies and appreciates violence the way scholars do The Renaissance or Medieval Europe. He is brutal and efficient, the hammer of SAMCRO. The Tacoma Killer.

But you wouldn’t guess any of that if you saw Happy with his goddaughter Isabelle. From the first moment she was placed in his arms mere hours after she was born, Happy swore to protect her with his life. He had never held something so tiny, so delicate in his hands before and he had never loved anything as deeply and as quickly as Isabelle Trager.

Happy originally prospected up in Tacoma but before Marisa died, she made him promise to look after Tig and Isabelle. She knew Tig would be devastated and she was worried Isabelle would get lost in his grief. It was a needless worry but Happy didn’t want to take any chances with his goddaughter’s wellbeing. So he transferred to SAMCRO and moved in with Tig to help him mourn his wife while still being a good father. That time only served to cement Happy’s bond with Isabelle even further. She adored her Uncle Happy and she was the light of his life.

Spending time with Isabelle was one of the few things that brought him solace during their war with the Mayans. Because of the threats of constant violence, Tig never let Isabelle come up to Charming. Instead, they would meet with her at a cabin between Morado and Charming. It wasn’t the most ideal situation but it kept her and the Santiagos safe.

When John brokered peace with the Mayans and then laid out a plan for SAMCRO to go legit, Happy was skeptical at first. But he trusted his president and he wanted a better future for Isabelle. And it has turned out well - SAMCRO is branching out from the garage and moving into custom bikes. John tapped Happy to open up a tattoo parlor, something he has always dreamed of doing. But the best part is getting to watch Isabelle grow up and not have to constantly look over her shoulder. Living in peace is something The Tacoma Killer never thought possible. He’s glad he was wrong.

Happy is finishing up a sketch for a client when the chimes on the parlor door ring. He looks up to see Isabelle walking in with a shit eating grin on her face. Happy internally sighs because lord knows what she’s up to this time.

“Hey Uncle Hap,” she smiles, sitting in a stool and rolling her way to his side.

Happy raises an eyebrow at her, moving the toothpick in his mouth from one side to the other. He has learned the best way to handle Isabelle is by letting her overshare. She starts out all sweet smiles and eyelash batting but when Happy just gives her a stone silent face, she begins to babble.

She is cool, calm and collected with everyone else but she never wants to disappoint her Uncle Happy. It’s actually quite funny, watching her accidentally spill the beans on what he’s sure she believed was a master plan. Tig has used Happy quite often as an Isabelle Lie Detector Test and it works every single time. She’ll even confess other people’s secrets. Like the time she told them Jax and Opie were one county over buying illegal fireworks to set off in gym class.

So he doesn’t say anything, waiting to see what foolishness comes out of her mouth. He is surprised when she pulls out a picture of Marisa and hands it to him. Then it dawns on him - this Sunday is the anniversary of Marisa’s death.

“Dad said when I was 16 I could get a tattoo honoring mom,” she explains. “I’ve thought a lot about it and I want to get her face somewhere around my shoulder.”

Happy takes the photo from Isabelle’s hand. It’s from the day her and Tig ran off to Vegas to get married. They were both impulsive spirits, so no one was surprised when they came back from a weekend getaway married. Marisa is positively beaming in the picture, love radiating out of those big, brown eyes. It breaks Happy’s heart all over again, knowing he’ll never see that smile in person anymore.

“If I call Tig right now, he’s not going to be surprised you’re here?” Happy asks, face showing no signs of his inner sadness.

Isabelle shakes her head. “Scout’s honor!”

“You were never in the Girl Scout’s, Isabelle. We tried and you left orientation when you found out Girl Scouts don’t get free cookies.”

“Why else would I join?”

Considering Happy’s never seen the appeal of joining a social group not devoted to motorcycles or tattoos, he can’t argue with her logic.

Right about the time Happy’s settling into his Lie Detector face, his pre-pay goes off.

“That’s probably Dad. He knew you wouldn’t believe me if I came here by myself. Which hurts my feelings, might I add!”

Happy rolls his eyes at her theatrics. As if she hasn’t tried (and failed) to pull many, many, _many_ fast ones on him in the past. This time, however, she’s telling the truth. Tig, who is in Nevada with Piney at a car show, gives Happy the greenlight to tattoo Isabelle. Given the timing and the fact that it’s to honor Marisa, Tig couldn’t say no to his little girl. Pushover.

When he gets off the phone, he turns to see Isabelle with a “told you so” look on her face. God, this girl is going to be the death of them all.

Isabelle has watched Happy tattoo people countless times. She’s fascinated by the whole process and loves seeing him work. He doesn’t have to do the spiel he normally gives to first timers. He simply takes the photo to his desk to trace.

“Okay, you know the drill. Victim gets to pick the first song.”

Happy has a tradition of letting his clients choose which song he plays at the start of their session. He finds it puts them at ease and gives him a way to learn a bit more about them. If they pick something god awful, he never tattoos them again. Because clearly they’re idiots and he doesn’t like his artwork being on stupid people.

Isabelle has come prepared, whipping out a CD and heading over to his sound system. The strains of drums and trumpets immediately fill the shop. Happy can’t help but smile. Without looking up, Happy asks her why she chose the song - Amora a La Mexicana by Thalia. He’s pretty sure he knows the answer but still wants to hear it from her.

“Well, since this tattoo is honoring Mom, I wanted something that celebrated part of her heritage, you know?”

Happy nods as he continues tracing one of his oldest friend’s faces. It hurts more than he’ll ever admit, knowing how much Marisa is missing. He keeps it to himself though because Tig and Isabelle have suffered a lot worse than him.

When everything is ready, he motions for Isabelle to lay down at his workstation. He sterilizes the area on her back shoulder area where he thinks it will look best. It is also one of the least painful places to get a tattoo. He knows Isabelle is tough but he’s going to do everything he can to minimize her discomfort.

He places the temporary design and let’s her inspect it. When she nods enthusiastically, he preps his equipment and the ink. He can see her watching out of the corner of his eyes, all the while bopping along to Thalia.

As he settles into working on Isabelle’s tattoo, she starts asking questions about Marisa. For most of them, she already knows the answer. She just wants to reminisce about a person she never really knew. Happy is beyond honored to be the connection between mother and daughter.

“Tell me again how you met her.”

“She lived about five houses down from me growing up. Her mom and my mom were friends. Your mother was annoying as fuck when she was little. Always following me and my crew around.”

“Did she get into a lot of trouble hanging out with you?”

Happy chuckles, biting down on his toothpick. “Nah. She usually got us out of it. Sweet talk whatever cop we ran into. She’d bat those eyelashes and… well, let’s just say she was good at using what God gave her.”

“You mean her boobs.”

Happy really doesn’t want to talk about Marisa’s “assets” with her daughter.

“If it wasn’t for her,” he continues on as if Isabelle didn’t say anything. “my juvie record would be a lot longer.”

A quiet settles on them for a while, the sound of the tattoo gun intermixing with Thalia’s heartfelt love letter to Mexico. Seeing Marisa slowly coming to life on her daughter’s skin hits Happy deep in his soul. This is probably one of the hardest tattoos he has ever done.

“Were you ever in love with her?” Isabelle asks out of nowhere.

Happy scrunches up his face, slightly appalled Isabelle would ever think that, let alone mention it out loud.

“God no! Marisa and I practically grew up like brother and sister. Just. No, Isabelle. God.”

“Wow! Okay, okay! I was only curious! Geez, Uncle Hap.”

“That would have never worked. She was too bullheaded and I’m not…”

“Warm and fuzzy? Able to deal with a woman for more than one night, hell sometimes just thirty minutes?” Isabelle offers.

“Shut up, kid.”

Isabelle laughs. She loves giving him shit about his lack of interest in women past what they can offer him for a couple of hours. Happy enjoys his solitude, craves it. He has yet to meet a woman who is willing to leave him the fuck alone for days, sometimes weeks at a time. He’s more than satisfied with the way his life is now - his brothers, his goddaughter and easy pussy.

“I’ll tell you this though, your dad fell fast and hard for your mom.”

“He never talks much about how they met. I think it still hurts him, you know? I try not to push. I hate seeing him in pain.”

“I know, Sweet Pea,” Happy wipes away some of the excess ink. “You can always come to me though.”

He watches as she bites her lip, not sure if it’s because she’s thinking or because of the tattoo. After a few minutes, she finally asks how her mom and dad met.

“It was back when I was still at SAMTAC. Bunch of guys from Charming came up for Lee’s birthday party. Marisa was visiting me that weekend, so she tagged along.”

“I bet Dad thought she was a croweater.”

Happy shakes his head. “Ain’t no way anyone would mistake Marisa for a croweater. She didn’t have her tits hanging out for one. She didn’t need all that.”

Happy remembers Tig running into a bar stool because he was staring so hard at Marisa. All of his hardness melted away the minute he saw her smile. Happy pulled Tig to the side and told him Marisa was like his sister and wasn’t free pussy. He nodded but it didn’t stop Tig from watching her the entire night.

“He didn’t say one word to her that night, just kept staring. Next morning, Marisa went up to him and asked if he had a problem with Mexicans. He shook his head. She asked if he had a problem with Black people. When he shook his head again, she asked him, ‘Then why the fuck were you staring at me last night?’. Thought he was gonna shit his pants.”

Isabelle has her head turned towards him now, soaking up each detail Happy gives her. She is grinning from ear to ear. _She has her smile_ , he thinks sadly.

“From that day on, Tig followed her around like a damn puppy. Never seen anything like it.”

Happy has to stop himself from saying, “until I saw the way Jax looks at you”. He may have brought together one Son and a Santiago but he is not touching Jax and Isabelle’s… whatever with a ten foot pole.

Isabelle continues to pepper him with questions throughout their session. Happy both loves and hates reminiscing about Marisa. It brings him as much pain as it does joy. But he wants her daughter to know her - even if it’s through someone else’s eyes.

“You remind me so much of her, mi ahijada,” he says as he finishes up the details of Marisa’s face. “Stubborn, smart, funny… wrap just about any gringo around your finger. Got her sailor mouth too.”

Isabelle seems the most proud of that last one. Tig never even tried to keep Isabelle from cursing. He did have a day job after all.

Happy puts down the tattoo gun, inspecting his work. It’s her, smiling at him one last time. He has to look away, pretending to clean up his station before he ends up crying. His grief is his own. It is not something he burdens other people with, except his mom.

He is bandaging Isabelle up when the door swings open. He doesn’t even have to look up to know it’s Jax.

“Did you get it?” he asks as he drops onto a stool.

Without waiting for a response, he rolls over to her shoulder. Happy rolls his eyes but moves the bandage enough for Jax to see the tattoo. He goes to touch it and Happy smacks his hands.

“No touching, dumbass. You know better.”

“Sorry, Hap. It just looks so real.”

Happy gives him a blank stare. “That’s the point, idiota.”

Isabelle barks out a laugh, poking at Jax’s side. The two play fight back and forth while Happy cleans up and has to physically stop himself from continually rolling his eyes.

“Keep it clean and shit, mija.”

“I know, I know,” Isabelle comes over to him and wraps her arms around his waist. She gives him a dramatic kiss on the cheek and that gets a bit of a smile out of him.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Get the fuck out of my shop,” he jokingly pushes her towards the door.

“Geez. I can take a hint, Uncle Hap. So anti-social,” she teases before giving him one last kiss and turning towards Jax.

“Come on. Opie and Donna are waiting for us at Sylvie’s.”

“Just them?” Isabelle asks, her real question going unspoken.

Jax knows what she means though and shakes his head. “Just us chickens tonight, baby girl.”

He plants a kiss on Isabelle’s forehead. Happy raises an eyebrow, biting down hard on his toothpick. Good god, these two are oblivious idiots.

Happy has no idea why Jax is wasting his time with Tara. The poor boy has been enamored with Isabelle from the start. Whenever baby Isabelle was in the room, Jax was right by her side. He couldn’t hold her but he would get as close as possible, hardly taking his eyes off her.

When he was around 3, Jax started talking and kept trying to say Isabelle’s name. He couldn’t get it, so he gave up and called her baby girl. The nickname stuck, although the way Jax says it now is _way_ different than how he said it as a toddler. How Tara can ignore the idiot’s obvious crush on his best friend is beyond Happy. But he doesn’t have that high of an opinion of Jax’s girlfriend anyways.

Happy watches them through the window, their body language intimate and soft. _If they ever get their shit together_ , he thinks to himself, _that’s gonna be one helluva love story_.

* * *

Happy is finishing a dragon tattoo on a client when Isabelle comes into the shop. He looks over the top of his glasses at her, one eyebrow raised. As far as he remembers, he doesn’t have plans with his goddaughter today. So god only knows why she’s here.

His client, a wanna be biker that has the intelligence of a squeaky dog toy, lets out a low whistle when he sees Isabelle.

“Man, that’s some prime pussy right there. Young and firm too. You know her?”

Happy bears down on his needle, causing the faux biker playboy to yelp in pain. When he looks over at Happy, he comes face-to-face with the Tacoma Killer. The guy gulps, eyes bulging out of his head.

“That’s my goddaughter,” Happy says, voice hard and cold. “If you want to keep your dick attached to your body, I’d suggest you never go near her. Understood?”

The guy nods so hard, Happy’s sure he’ll hurt his neck. Fucking prick.

When he’s done, the client pays and practically runs out of the shop, keeping a wide berth between him and Isabelle. Happy bites down on his toothpick and smiles. Still got it, he thinks to himself. Not that anyone would ever accuse Happy of going soft. Unless they had a death wish.

“What do you want, little girl,” he asks Isabelle. He sounds gruff but she knows he’s only teasing.

“Remember when you said I could get any tattoo I wanted when I turned 18?”

“No.”

Isabelle pouts, actually pouts. As if that’s gonna work on him. She may have everyone else charmed but Happy is immune. She is far too much like her mother for him to be fooled by that innocent face.

“Well you did,” she crosses her arms over her chest. “And I’m here to collect.”

Internally, Happy is laughing his ass off. No one else dares to speak to him like that and here she is demanding shit. On the outside, Happy stares her down, not once blinking. She starts off all big and bad, staring right back at him. But after less than a minute, she cracks. And then comes the whining.

“Uncle Happy! I’m 18 now, that means I’m an adult!”

“That’s debatable.”

She throws her hands up in the air. Because that’s gonna prove she’s a grown up.

“Fine. You never promised that but I checked your schedule and you’re free so would you please just do your favorite goddaughter this one thing and let me get a tattoo.”

She rushes all of that out in one breath. Happy has to try very hard not to laugh out loud.

“You’re my only goddaughter,” he points out, trying to annoy her.

She throws herself into his chair and gives him the saddest puppy dog look he has ever seen on a human being. _Damn, she’s even better than her mom_ , he thinks.

He rolls his eyes but puts out his hand. He knows she wouldn’t come here without either a drawing or a reference for him to use. She gives him a huge, beaming smile and pulls out dog tags. When he gets a good look at them, he realizes their Tig’s.

“I have a tattoo for Mom and now I want to get one for Dad. So I borrowed his dog tags for you to use.”

“By borrowed you mean…”

“Stole, okay. I stole Dad’s dog tags, you happy?”

“That is my name.”

“Ughhh. You’re the worst.”

Now that does make him laugh out loud. “Okay, kid. Since you’re an ‘adult’ now, I suppose you can get a tattoo anytime you want.”

She goes to her backpack and pulls out a wad of cash. “I am even willing to pay!”

“Please tell me you didn’t steal that too.”

“Happy Lowman! I am not a criminal! Jax gave it to me.”

“Of course he did,” Happy mutters. That boy was so whipped and he didn’t even know it.

“Anyways, I think I want it on my calf. Do you think that would look good?”

She points to her leg as if Happy doesn’t know where a calf is located. She is wearing a simple tank top and cut off denim shorts. The little troublemaker knew he would say yes.

“How big do you want it?”

“Same size as the tags, if the letters won’t come out looking bad.”

Happy squints his eyes at her, insulted that she would even suggest anything he did would look bad.

“Sorry, Uncle Hap. You know what I meant.”

He grunts, bites down on his toothpick and turns to his drafting table. It doesn’t take him long to recreate the dog tags, clear lettering and all. Isabelle peaks over his shoulder while blowing a huge bubble with her gum. She pops it right next to his ear because she’s a goddamn brat.

“Go put your song on and sit the fuck down, Troublemaker.”

She gives him a kiss on the cheek and all but skips over to his sound system. If he wasn’t bald, she would give him a head full of gray hair.

The shop is filled with a mellow beat and joyous singing. It’s not at all what he was expecting but it’s a pleasant surprise. Everyday People by Sly and The Family Stone is one of his favorite songs. He’s curious why Isabelle chose it.

She settles in the chair and he goes to sterilize and shave the area he’s going to tattoo. “So why’d you pick this song, little girl?”

“It always makes me think of Dad,” she says as she’s moving her head to the beat. “He always told me SAMCRO saved his life after he left the Marines. Said the club gave him that sense of brotherhood he missed from the Corps. This song is about belonging and finding your peace, so…”

She shrugs, letting the rest of her logic float around them. Happy understands what she means though. A lot of his brothers came to the club trying to find a place to fit in again. Including him. He could have ended up doing life in jail or dead in a ditch somewhere, especially during the Mayan war years. But he came out the other side and he’s counted himself lucky ever since.

He begins outlining the dog tags on her leg. She’s unusually quiet, which for Isabelle is never a good sign.

“What’s on your mind, kid?”

She bites her lip, one of her nervous tells. “I got my acceptance letter for the CIA earlier this week.”

Happy doesn’t look up from his work but she can see a genuine grin on his face. Isabelle has always wanted to own a bakery. She used to follow her grandmother around the kitchen rattling off questions as the poor woman tried to bake.

Eventually Ana Santiago pulled up a stool and let her granddaughter help. Anything to give her a moment's peace. Turned out, Isabelle had a knack for it and it kept her out of trouble. So Happy wasn’t surprised when she told him she was applying to the Culinary Institute of America’s pastry arts program.

“Well we all knew that would happen. You’re a natural talent, Sweet Pea. So what’s got you biting at your lip like that?”

“I haven’t told Jax yet,” she sighs.

She may have not told Jax but the boy has to know it’s coming. Happy suspects that’s why Jax hasn’t declared his undying love for Isabelle. Something that seems to be obvious to everyone but his goddaughter.

“You think he won’t be happy for you?”

She shakes her head, watching Happy start the lettering inside the top dog tag. The design he chose has the dog tags stacked on top of each other, as if someone tossed them onto a flat surface. Only half of the bottom tag is visible. It’s the top tag that has all of Tig’s information. He replaced Tig’s social security number with X’s though. No sense in having her walking around with the key to stealing Tig’s identity on her body.

“No it’s not that… I just,” she is clearly struggling with how to answer Happy’s question. “It’s nothing, never mind.”

Happy has his head bent away from Isabelle so she can’t see him roll his eyes. Opie told him once watching Isabelle and Jax dance around each other made him want to go bang his head against a tree. Happy has never identified with that sentiment more than this very moment.

“You’re his best friend. He’ll be happy for you. If not, I can shoot him in the leg.”

Isabelle’s whole face lights up. “Thanks, Uncle Happy!”

She is definitely Tig’s daughter.

Right as Happy is finishing up, the door swings open. Happy’s next potential shooting victim comes in. Jax doesn’t even say hi, just immediately kneels next to Isabelle’s leg to see her newest tattoo. He reaches out to touch it and Happy smacks his hand.

“Did Gemma drop you on your head a lot or something? You know not to touch.”

“Sorry, Hap. It just looks so real.”

Happy gives him a blank stare. He doesn’t even bother telling him that’s the point. He wraps her up and she swings her legs off the tattoo table.

“She shouldn’t ride just yet so your dumb ass better have brought a car.”

Jax isn’t remotely subtle about staring at Isabelle’s chest as she leans forward to get her knapsack. Happy has to hit Jax in the back of the head to get his attention.

“She’s letting me drive Shelby to take her home.”

“Just this once,” she wags her finger at him.

Jax nods along, a stupid, lovestruck grin on his face. Happy twirls his toothpick around in his mouth, looking between the pair of morons. How can two intelligent people be so fucking clueless?

“You know the drill. Keep it clean, don’t feed it after midnight, no direct light.”

“I’m not a gremlin, Uncle Hap.”

“You’re about as much trouble as one,” he mutters, cleaning up his station for the day. “Get outta my shop. I got shit to do.”

“Love you too,” Isabelle gives him a kiss on the cheek before flouncing towards Jax.

“You wanna go to Sylvie’s?” she asks him, linking their arms together. “I’ve got some news.”

Happy sees Jax’s smile falter a tiny bit, something even Isabelle doesn’t catch. He’s quick to flash his trademark smirk though. He throws his arm over her shoulders as they head out.

“Sure thing, baby girl. But you’re paying since you flat out robbed me this morning.”

“It’s not robbing when you hand it over, asshole.”

Happy listens to their bickering fade away as they leave the shop. He watches for a minute as Jax holds Isabelle’s car door open for her, all the while looking at her like she’s his entire world. Happy knows Jax misses Isabelle when she’s not in Charming, hates being away from her. But Happy also knows Jax would never hold Isabelle back from following her dream.

Happy Lowman may not be one for relationships, but he knows true love when he sees it.

* * *

Happy is sitting at his drafting table, Isabelle on a stool next to him. She’s peeking over his shoulder, which is getting on his last nerve.

“Can I have some room to actually draw?” he glares at her from the corner of his eyes.

She has the decency to look sheepish as she moves a bit to give him space. “Sorry, Uncle Hap. It’s just…”

“Yes, yes. You’ve told me a million times.”

What Isabelle doesn’t know is Happy designed this tattoo for her years ago. It didn’t take a crystal ball to see it coming. Although they took their damn time getting their shit together.

After years of dancing around each other, Isabelle is getting Jax Teller’s crow.

The pair announced a week ago at a family dinner they were dating. No one was surprised. Mostly because the two of them weren’t as clever as they thought. Tig saw Isabelle sneaking out of Jax’s dorm room over a month ago. Gemma found them making out in her backyard three weeks ago. And Happy saw them out on what was obviously a date at Sylvie’s two weeks ago while picking up a take out order. Not to mention all the sex they were having in the locker room at Lumpy’s.

Everyone was just waiting for the two to come clean. Happy and Tig both knew it was Isabelle that wanted to keep the relationship under wraps. She is pessimistic and overly cautious by nature. Sometimes it is to her detriment, leaving her indecisive and unable to move forward. Ironically, it’s usually Jax who talks her through those situations.

Isabelle came to him last week asking for help designing her crow. He pretended to listen to her ideas and suggestions. He then promptly ignored all of it and went with his original design.

Now she’s being a side seat tattoo artist and goddaughter or not, Happy has just about reached the end of his patience. He glances at the clock, wondering where Jax is for the hundredth time. Maybe he can shut Isabelle the hell up.

“Do you think I was wrong, keeping me and Jax a secret for so long?”

Happy truly loves Isabelle. She’s probably the best thing that’s ever happened to him. But sometimes she makes seriously stupid decisions.

“Relationships are like orchids, Isabelle. They need care and sunlight. They can’t thrive in the dark.”

“I don’t think it was awful to wait until we were more established as a couple,” she defends her choice.

Happy raises an unimpressed eyebrow, rolling his toothpick around his mouth. He is giving her a blank stare over his glasses, waiting her out. Sure enough, after a few minutes of silence, she starts babbling.

“I mean, there’s a lot to take into account. Dad could have hated the idea!”

Happy somehow manages to raise his eyebrow even higher.

“Gemma may mean well but you know how she is about Jax. She can’t help but meddle in his life.”

Happy leans back in his seat, crossing his arms and still remaining silent.

“Plus what if we break up? No one seems to be thinking about the fallout if we don’t work out!”

Happy rolls his eyes and stands up, going to get one of his sketchbooks. He dates all of his sketches, a habit from his high school days. He flips around until he comes to the drawing he wants to show Isabelle. He turns the sketchbook around and drops it in her lap.

The crow design he’s drawing on the transfer paper now is staring back up at her and the sketch is over four years old.

The body of the crow is on the upper bicep. The wings are spanning either side of the shoulder, giving it the appearance of a crow mid flight. At first glance, the feathers are jet black. But upon closer inspection, some of them have a dark blue or dark purple sheen to them. It gives the feathers depth and movement, adding further to the illusion of flight. Jax’s birthdate is on the tip of the feathers on the front shoulder area.

Isabelle glances up at Happy, mouth hanging open. “How did you…”

“Little girl, that boy has been in love with you from the beginning. He just didn’t want to get in the way of your dreams.”

Isabelle traces the design with her fingertips, a soft smile on her face. Happy watches her, waiting to see if she understands what he’s trying to tell her.

“So you’re saying that Jax and I were inevitable?”

“Not inevitable. More like destined. The two of you fit in a way I haven’t seen since…”

Happy stops for a moment, the emotions of loss and sadness hitting him suddenly in the chest.

“Since Mom and Dad?” Isabelle guesses.

He gives her a crooked smile and simply nods. He sits down again at his table, adding the final touches to Isabelle’s crow.

“You should have been more open about your fears. Couples talk, they share and all that shit.”

“I didn’t know how to say it right. I thought if we waited a little longer, they’d go away on their own.”

“Did it occur to you that may have given him the wrong impression?”

He doesn’t need to look over to know she’s confused. Happy lets out an exasperated sigh. How has it come to this? Happy Lowman, relationship counselor.

“Someone insists on hiding a relationship? Could come across as being ashamed of it.

“I would never be ashamed of Jax!”

“How is he supposed to know that? He’s not a mind reader.”

Isabelle sits there for a moment, her face going through a range of emotions: indignant, confused, worried and finally guilty. As Happy suspected, she was so caught up in her own fears, she never considered how Jax may have interpreted her hesitance.

“I didn’t think of that…” she almost whispers.

“Figured as much. You also put him in an awkward situation with your dad.”

“What? How?”

Happy motions for her to sit in his tattoo chair. He has already sterilized and shaved the baby hairs on her left shoulder. He positions the transfer paper where he thinks the crow should go. When she nods, he starts preparing his equipment and ink.

“Jax should have gone to Tig from the beginning, let your dad know his intentions.”

Isabelle opens her mouth but Happy stops her with _that_ look.

“It’s not sexist, Isabelle. It’s a respect thing, brotherhood and honoring Tig’s role in your life.”

She huffs but doesn’t deny Happy’s right. She just hates being wrong. So Happy knows what’s coming out of her mouth next.

“Well, Jax was wrong for that Dani stunt too!”

Happy shrugs. “You picked an idiot.”

Isabelle busts out laughing as she goes to put on her chosen song. Van Morrison’s voice echoes through the shop, crooning about Crazy Love. Which is perfect considering Jax and Isabelle are both in love _and_ batshit crazy.

As she settles back into the chair, Jax finally comes sauntering into the shop. He makes his way over to them and goes straight for Isabelle, planting a kiss on her lips. Happy has to stop himself from punching Jax in the face. It’s an automatic reaction he’s developed over the years to any guy making a move on Isabelle. He should probably unlearn it. Maybe.

“I have a surprise for you,” Jax beams as he starts to unbutton his shirt.

“Jax! Uncle Happy’s right there. Not really the time for… _that_.”

Happy scrunches up his nose. Although he knows why Jax is undressing in the middle of his shop, he never wants to think about Isabelle having sex. Ever. It was bad enough when he overheard them at Lumpy’s.

He’s getting the inks and gun set up when he hears her squeal with joy, bringing a genuine smile to Happy’s face. When he turns around, Isabelle is gingerly touching Jax’s newest tattoo: a botanical drawing of a sweet pea flower with Sweet Pea in cursive script underneath it. The tattoo is situated over his heart. Happy did _not_ shed a few tears after he finished it.

“Now we’re both branded cattle,” Jax jokes, watching her face closely. “You like it?”

All she can do is nod as she tries to hold back tears. The two of them just sit there staring at each other for way too long. Happy has to break it up before he ends up in the middle of a Hallmark movie. He pushes Jax towards a nearby sofa and gets to work.

Happy stays mostly silent during the session, eavesdropping on the still new lovebirds. It reminds him so much of Marisa and Tig, it both warms and breaks his heart. He remembers watching Tig and Marisa stumble their way into something solid and real. He also remembers wanting to smash their heads together a few times. Apparently Opie can relate.

Several hours later, Happy wipes away the last of the excess ink. As soon as he gets up from his stool, Jax takes his place. When he reaches out to touch her crow, Happy smacks his hand.

“Sorry, Hap. It just looks so real.”

“Your dumb ass has been saying that since she was 16. Stop being so damn stupid.”

Happy cleans her newly tattooed skin gently before wrapping it up. He then calmly pulls out one of his smaller knives and throws it, embedding it a few inches from Jax’s crotch. Jax jumps up, eyes as big as saucers.

“Isabelle is like a daughter to me. I see your dick near anyone else but her, I won’t miss.”

Isabelle is beaming at her godfather. “That is the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for me, Uncle Happy.”

Jax can only stare at Isabelle as if she’s lost her mind. _You signed up for a handful_ , Happy thinks. He almost feels sorry for the poor boy.

Almost.


End file.
